Incomers
by Katief20
Summary: A hill farmer is the target of a vendetta but by whom? Before the police can find an answer events take a serious turn and Nick Rowan is caught in the crossfire.
1. Chapter 1

Old Ernest (Ernie) Cook owned a hill farm high on the Yorkshire Moors. He lived alone now, his wife Beryl had died some years ago, their only son had left for London not long afterward having decided farming (to his father's disappointment) wasn't for him. Ernest kept himself to himself and Nick Rowan had rarely been out to the farm perhaps once or twice about mundane issues such as a shotgun licence. So it was notable that he had been up at the farm three times in the last fortnight. And Nick was losing patience with the situation.

"Its three times now the flock's got out Ernie," he said, "and they've nearly caused an accident this time."

"Ah don't know how they got out Mr Rowan. Ah do check my fences but…"

"But not well enough. I'm sorry Ernie but its got to stop. The postman ended up going off the road trying to avoid your sheep. He could have been hurt." Nick sighed. "I don't want to come down hard on you Ernie but –"

"Tell him Ernie." Bert Cooper was listening to the exchange intently. He wasn't too much younger than Ernie and had worked for him on the farm for many years. Now Ernie frowned at him and shook his head saying, "Nay, there's nowt to say."

Nick looked at Bert. "Bert?"

"Ernie doesn't want ter tell you Mr Rowan but the flock's not been getting out. Some beggar has been letting them out."

"How do you know that Bert?"

"Found t'gate swinging open first time, then wire cut last few times, that's how!"

Nick looked sharply at Ernie. "You didn't tell me this Ernie! Why?"

"Ah don't want trouble Mr Rowan."

"Well someone wants trouble Ernie. And if you tell me, maybe I can help you sort it out," Nick said patiently. He sighed. Sometimes half the battle was getting people to let you help them. And what he couldn't work out was who on earth wanted to cause bother for Ernest.

"Nay, I've not had bother wi' no-one Mr Rowan. Happen it were some walker or such like who left that gate open."

Nick looked at Bert.

"You had that fancy beggar from Cross Rigg pestering yer Ernie," Bert chipped in helpfully.

Nick frowned a minute then got it. "You mean Mr Armstrong? Just bought Cross Rigg about three months ago."

"Aye, he's been pestering Ernie to sell him some land."

Nick could understand that. Cross Rigg was limited in size whereas Ernie had farmed in quite a big way until it got too much for him and much of his land was redundant; it made sense for someone to make an offer for it or lease it.

"Well, ah don't want to sell land off Mr Rowan," Ernie said now. "I don't know, our Billy might change his mind and come back here to farm yet and he can't do that if I've sold it all off now can he?"

"Pigs might," muttered Bert.

"How did Mr Armstrong react when you said you weren't selling Ernie?" Nick asked now.

"He's never been away from t'door," muttered Bert. "Pestering Ernie here asking if he's changed his mind yet."

"That true Ernie?" Nick asked sharply.

"Aye, well, he doesn't give up so easy," Ernie conceded.

Nick thought a minute. Certainly there was no proof but still, acquiring the extra grazing land would greatly improve the value of Cross Rigg.

"Tell you what Ernie," he said now, "I'll go and speak to Mr Armstrong, just ask him if he's seen any strangers hanging around and ask him to keep an eye out. And you let me know if you have any more problems all right? We'll get to the bottom of it but you've to tell me if anything else happens."

"Aye, all right Mr Rowan."

Armstrong was in the yard when Nick arrived. Cross Rigg had been somewhat run down when he bought it, it was already looking much different. The house had been spruced up and the tumbledown barns reconstructed. Nick took a moment to look around noting the smart wooden fencing, stock grazing in the fields around the house. Armstrong himself reflected his set up – brisk, no-nonsense, with a keen determination. Very different in many ways from Ernie but of course the man was very much younger.

"Constable Rowan isn't it?" The man smiled pleasantly. "I was just going into the house for a cup of tea. Would you care to join me?"

"If you don't mind, sir, I won't," Nick replied. "I need to get back to the station. But I just wanted to speak to you about Ernie Cook at Low Farm."

"Ah, I understand his flock were out again. The postman told me – he was quite shaken up when he got here."

"Again, sir?"

"Well they got loose a week or two back, some got in with mine, had a devil of a job sorting them all out."

Nick nodded. He took a deep breath. "Its unusual for Ernie to be having problems like this," he said. "His stockman, Bert, reckons fences may have been cut, gates left open. I wondered if you'd seen anyone hanging around. Other than the usual walkers and the like."

"Not at all Constable. But I will be keeping my eye out now." The man thought for a moment. "Should I go down and see Ernie do you think? Must be very worrying for him especially given his age."

"Do you get on with Ernie well sir?"

"Well, only in a neighbourly sort of way. Good morning, sort of thing. Oh and I asked him about purchasing some land but he didn't seem keen although he is only farming in quite a small way at the moment and I'm keen to expand."

"All right sir. Well I'll get on now but if you could just keep an eye out and let me know if you see anything untoward."

There was little more Nick could do. He had no evidence, and he somehow could not visualise Armstrong setting stock loose and tormenting an elderly farmer.

"Ah think old Ernie's slipping a bit," was Alf Ventress' verdict when Nick spoke to him about it back at the station.

"What, he left the gate open himself you mean?" Nick sighed. "All right, what about the wire cutting?"

"Well you've only old Bert's word for that." Alf said. "Look, I'm just saying, pair of 'em are getting on Nick and happen its just all getting ter much for 'em. And Ernie doesn't want to admit it because he's dead set on keeping t'farm going for that son of his even though there's no chance he's coming back ter take that farm on."

Things took a more sinister turn a few nights later.

The phone rang in the Police House at 1.15 am. Nick answered it still half asleep. "Aidensfield Police?" He half turned as Kate came sleepily down the stairs behind him. Nick listened a moment then said, "I'll be there as soon as I can. Fire brigade on the way? All right." He put down the phone. Kate looked at him quizzically.

"I need to get to Low Farm. Ernest Cook's haybarn is on fire and I'll lay odds its not an accident."

Six am the next morning and Nick and Sergeant Blaketon were watching the fire brigade still damping down. The barn and contents were gone. This included all the winter hay, plus the farm tractor. One of the firemen approached the two police officers.

"Strong smell of petrol," he said quietly. "Petrol can just there by the barn door and another one at the back of the barn – there's a window there. Petrol probably poured in through the window but our fire investigation people will tell you more when they've had chance to investigate."

Ernie was in the farmhouse across from the barn. He was sitting by the large fireplace dominating the kitchen/parlour of the shabby farmhouse. He had a a blanket over his shoulders. He suddenly looked every bit of his seventy odd years. Nick felt a jolt - they had to do something for Ernest. This couldn't go on.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'll make you a hot drink Ernest," Nick said now. He paused. "I could ask my wife to come out and look at you. You've had a shock."

"Nay I'm fine lad."

Nick exchanged glances with his Sergeant. "All right, but I'll make you that hot drink anyway."

Blaketon sat quietly opposite Ernest.

"Tell me about last night Ernest," he said.

"Nowt much ter say. I went ter bed early as I allus do."

Nick gave the old man his tea. "What time was that exactly Ernest?"

"Ten o'clock. It were all quiet, no one about as far as I know." Ernest sipped at the hot tea. "I were woken about half twelve by me dog barking. I went ter the window and saw t'barn were on fire." He fell silent.

"All right Ernie, take your time." Oscar Blaketon like Nick was moved by the old man's distress.

"Me stockman Bert came running from his cottage but there was nowt we could do. I'm not on t'phone and Bert had to take his bike t' nearest phone box. I tried gettin' me tractor out at least but –"

Suddenly they were all distracted by shouting outside. Nick made for the farmhouse door. Bert was arguing with Armstrong outside.

"Bert? Everything all right?" Nick closed the door behind him, he did not want Ernie upset any more.

"It will be when this beggar clears off Mr Rowan. Barn only burned down last night and he's sticking his neb in already – bloody incomers.."

"That's enough Bert." Bert shut up remembering hastily that the Aidensfield constable was also what you would call "an incomer."

"Can I help you Mr Armstrong?" Nick turned to the man now.

"I've come at a bad time. But I just wanted to see how Ernest was – terrible thing to happen."

"He'll be all right." Nick paused. "Not seen anyone hanging around have you? Last night or early this morning?"

"No, no, I haven't."

"Too much of a coincidence if you ask me, all this," muttered Bert.

"I'm sorry?" Armstrong asked.

"Not a bit o' bother has Ernest had all these years then you turn up badgering him for land which he won't sell; next thing yer know, his stock is set loose, his barn's afire.."

"I hope you're not implying anything here!" Armstrong's demeanour suddenly changed to openly hostile.

"All right that's enough both of you!" Nick snapped although he'd noted the change in Armstrong's attitude. It struck him the man had a temper however hard he tried to conceal it.

"I won't have allegations thrown at me Constable!"

"No one is implying anything. You go on home Mr Armstrong, I'll tell Ernest you called in."

"Tell him if he needs it I've got some feed I can let him have, tide him over for a few days. Or anything else he needs."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that."

Armstrong nodded, glared at Bert, then walked back to his Land Rover.

"I know how you feel Bert but you need proof before you go throwing accusations at anyone," Nick said quietly but pointedly. "And I don't want you stirring up trouble about "incomers" over a pint at the Aidensfield Arms. That's how things get out of hand and I'll not have vigilantes on my patch. I'm the bobby round here and I'll deal with anything that needs dealing with. Clear?"

Bert got it. "Aye, Mr Rowan," he said meekly. "I'm just that bothered for Ernie."

"I know. And so are we. We'll get to the bottom of it but you have to let us do it our way."

Sometime later Nick and his Sergeant left the farmhouse to go back to the station. Before getting in the car Sergeant Blaketon leaned against it, gazing over Ernie's fields. Nick, on the opposite side of the car, leaned on the roof, waiting for his Sergeant to speak.

Blaketon turned toward Nick and said, "Is it the land Rowan? Is that what's at t'bottom of all this?"

"When I spoke to Armstrong the other day he came over as so affable I'd have said not. But he fair lost his temper a bit with old Bert then."

"Aye but wouldn't you if someone was slinging mud at yer on account of yer being an incomer."

"Fair enough," Nick said. "And he had come over to see if he could help Ernie at all – though that might have been a smokescreen of course." He paused. "This is going to see Ernie off if we don't get to the bottom of it."

"I agree. Which is why I'm going to see the Inspector later. I'm thinking of putting a man on the door for a few nights. It's the barn and stock now, who's to say it might be old Ernest himself next time?"

Later at home Nick was abstracted and Kate knew why. She sat down with him in front of the fire.

"Worried about Ernest?" she asked.

"Yeah. Who could be behind this Kate? Ernie wouldn't harm a fly."

"And you're sure that this Armstrong has nothing to do with it?"

"Not sure, no, but.. I don't think so."

"I'm going to see Ernie tomorrow," she said. "I know he told you he was fine but he's old and he must be feeling pretty vulnerable. I'll see if I can do anything for him."

Nick managed a smile. "He's no talker Ernest," he said. "Good luck if you can get him to open up to you."

"I'll have to use my natural charm. Look come on you. If Blaketon does have you and Phil Bellamy up at the farm all night for the next few days you'll need to make the most of a decent night's sleep when you can."

He nodded then smiled.

"What?"

"Bert Cooper laying it on about "bloody incomers." Then he remembered he was talking to one! Shut himself up pretty quick!"

Kate laughed. "Round here," she pointed out, "if you're not born and bred, you'll stay an incomer!" She frowned. "That said, people have long memories and even if Armstrong is innocent, well, mud sticks."

"I know." Nick frowned. "Its another reason we've got to get this sorted."


	3. Chapter 3

In his office at Ashfordly Oscar Blaketon came off the phone to his Inspector; then went through to the duty room. Alf Ventress was exploring the contents of his lunchbox, Phil Bellamy was to all intents busy but was in fact finalising the rugby team sheet. Nick Rowan was typing a report – at least Blaketon hoped it was a report. You wouldn't know.

As he cleared his throat the lads became aware of his presence. The lunchbox was returned to a desk drawer, the team sheet slipped into a file on Phil's desk. Nick Rowan stopped typing and sat back in his chair.

"The Inspector has authorised us to keep a patrol at Ernest Cook's farm for a few nights," Blaketon said. "We'll start with you Rowan. Tonight."

"Sarge."

"Ventress. Have you found out anything about our Jed Armstrong?"

"Only that he's as clean as a whistle. Tenant farmer on the Drysdale Estate until he took the opportunity to buy his own farm - Cross Rigg. Lord Drysdale thought a lot of him apparently. Made him a generous offer to stay but Armstrong keen on having his own set up."

"And ambitious too. Explains why he wants the extra land," Nick said thoughtfully.

"Badly enough to frighten an old man?" Phil asked.

"Well if so that's what we need ter prove," Blaketon said dourly. He looked at Nick. "Has what you said to Bert Cooper worked? Last thing we need is him stirring it round the village."

"He's been quiet so far Sarge."

"Aye, well, lets keep it that way. We've enough trouble on your patch at the moment Constable."

He stalked back to his office. Phil placidly fished out his team sheet again ignoring the fact Nick was nearly choking with indignation.

"What's he mean by that?" he snapped as Blaketon's door shut.

"Aye well. You can't blame him." Alf winked at Phil. "These townie Constables Phil. They don't know nowt. Incomers!"

Phil snorted with laughter. Then to Nick he said, "Take no notice! Blaketon's just got it on him because he's had ter go begging to the Inspector most like."

"That'll be it," Alf said comfortably. "Any road wi' any luck, if whoever's bothering Ernest pays a visit tonight you'll nab him and that'll be end o' t' matter."

"I hope so Alf," Nick said soberly. "Poor old Ernest doesn't need this."

"No, that's true," Alf said thoughtfully. "It's a right funny one this. Ernest has never bothered anyone and now all this bother on his doorstep. If Armstrong is behind this I hope he can live wi' himself."

Nick went out to Low Farm at about half past ten that night. It would probably be a long, uneventful night in all truth but they had to try. Plus it was a big farm and his quarry could be causing bother at one end of the farm and he, at the other side, wouldn't know anything about it. But something had to be tried and this was the best thing in all the circumstances.

Ernest and Bert knew he was there – he did not want Bert filling him with lead from his shotgun, thank you - but he left his patrol car out of sight and tucked himself away in a corner of the farmyard.

Periodically he patrolled around the farmyard but all was quiet. He'd taken the opportunity of befriending the yard dog when out at the farm previously so it was happy with him patrolling and did not stir.

At about 1am Nick was doing a quick check around the perimeter of the yard when he suddenly stopped. He had seen something in one of the sheds in the yard. It was an open fronted shed with three walls. The roof was supported by timber stanchions. Ernie kept his Land Rover in the shed and some farm tools.

Nick kept himself to the farmyard fence and stayed low working his way round to the shed. He shone his torch inside. Nothing. He shone his torch downward and saw a petrol can lying on the floor some petrol dripping out as if it had been dropped.

And then he heard something immediately behind him and turned only to receive a glancing blow to the side of his head. It knocked him off his feet, he lost the protection of his helmet and hit his head very hard against one of the timber stanchions.

"Jesus Christ." The man who had hit Nick – actually he was barely a man perhaps in his early twenties- shone his torch down onto Nick who lay on his side, unconscious. The man didn't wait around. He fled snatching up the petrol can as he ran.

Jed Armstrong was out doing a late check in his Land Rover. He was worried about events at Low Farm. Also in light of accusations which had been made he was aware that if he could catch the intruder it might be in his own interest as much as Ernest Cook's.

A figure suddenly ran out of Ernest's gate and up the lane. In a flash Armstrong was out of his Land Rover using the headlights as an aid. He raised his gun.

"I will shoot!" he shouted.

"No please!" The youth turned back to him hands raised dropping the petrol can.

"What the hell are you doing?" Armstrong stepped forward. "Petrol – what've you done?" He glanced over at Ernest's farm but could see no evidence of fire.

"I haven't done it, I didn't get chance!" the lad gasped. "I think I've done summat worse though!"

"What have you done lad?"

"I- I think I've killed someone."

Armstrong visibly paled. "Right." He reached into the Land Rover and pulled out some baling twine. He walked up to the lad. "Turn round, I'm going to tie your hands together."

"What? Are you mad?"

"I can fill your backside with shot from my gun if you prefer."

The lad fell silent and let Armstrong tie his hands together. Then Jed shoved him into the Land Rover. "We're going up to my farm now," he said, "and I'll call the police from there. But if you've murdered old Ernie.."

"Murdered my Dad? Are you mental?"

Jed was stunned. "Your Dad?"

"Yeah. I'm Billy Cook, his son."

Jed shook his head. "And you were going to set fire to something? Like you set fire to his barn and let his stock out?"

"Yeah."

"And what happened tonight? Catch you at it did he? And you hit out?"

"Nah, I've not seen him."

"Then its Bert. Bert Cooper. God I hope you're proud of yourself knocking an old man off his feet!"

"Leave it out!" The youth leaned his head against the Land Rover window. "I've done a copper over haven't I? This weren't meant ter happen. I only meant ter fire a few old sheds and cut some wire an' now I've killed a bobby." He stared desperately at Jed. "What've I done?"


	4. Chapter 4

Oscar Blaketon and Phil Bellamy met Jed at the top of Ernest's lane. Jed watched as Phil took off the baler twine and applied handcuffs to Billy Cook then cuffed him to the steering wheel of the police car.

"I couldn't get down to Ernest's farm Sergeant," Armstrong said. "I wanted to watch him for a start." He nodded at Billy.

"That's fine Mr Armstrong. I appreciate your help." Blaketon took a deep breath. "Well, lets get down there now shall we? I don't think young Billy is going anywhere now."

"Please, I never meant ter hurt anyone," Billy whimpered.

"Shut it!" Phil snapped at him.

They walked down into the farmyard. The dog barked but Jed spoke to it and reassured it. They walked to the shed and found Nick lying in the mud straightaway.

"Nick, lad." Blaketon and Phil knelt by him. Jed kept a few paces back waiting to see if he could help.

Nick looked wearily up at them. "Sorry, Sarge," he said weakly. "I didn't get him. He knocked me off my feet and I hit that post I think."

"Yeah, I'd say you did," Phil said gently noting the gash on Nick's head and his accompanying black eye. "I think the post came off worst though!"

Nick tried to sit up but Blaketon pressed him back. "No you lie still, lad," he said, "you're hurt. Bellamy, just go up to the house would you and let Ernest know what's going on."

"Everything Sarge?"

"Aye, he has to know, but be gentle. I'll come and speak to him in a moment."

Nick looked confused at Oscar.

"Sarge?"

"Our intruder, who you had a run in with tonight, was stopped by Mr Armstrong out in the lane. Its Billy, Nick, Ernest's son. He were carrying a can of petrol – no doubt its our man all right. He's admitted it."

"His son – but why?"

"Well, that's something we need to get to the bottom of," Blaketon said.

"Sarge?"

"I feel a bit sick, Sarge?"

"All right, don't worry." Gently Blaketon supported Nick as he was very, very sick. Then he helped him lie back. "It'll be fine, lad, you've just had a fair bang on the head."

Jed turned as Phil came back across the yard, carrying a blanket.

"How's Ernest?" Jed asked.

"Shaken. I'll go back to him in a minute, I've just brought this out for Nick. How's he doing?"

"Just been sick as a dog." Jed nodded toward the house. "Shall I sit with Ernest?"

"If you would sir, I think he'd appreciate that," Phil said. "I've told him, you know, about you catching Billy in the act."

"I doubt he'll thank me."

"I think, sir, he'll just be relieved its over." Phil sighed. "As for the rest, well, we'll get to the bottom of what young Billy thought he was up to."

Jed went off to the house, Phil knelt by Nick and put the blanket over him. "You'll be fine Nick," he said, "it's the post we're worried about!"

Nick managed a weak smile. "Ernie?"

"Armstrong's gone in to sit with him for a bit," Blaketon said. "Then, when we've sorted you out and got you off to hospital, we'll get young Billy back to Ashfordly and see if we can work out what the hell he thought he was playing at!"

"Don't want to go to hospital Sarge."

"No I dare say you don't but its not optional," Blaketon told Nick. "I don't want to get on the wrong side of your Missus!"

Nick sighed and closed his eyes.

"And don't go off to sleep on us either!" Blaketon said sharply.

"My head's hurting!" Nick snapped back.

"That's more like it – if you're shouting, you're all right!" Phil said with a grin but he exchanged a concerned glance with his Sergeant. All jokes aside Nick had clearly had quite a bang on the head.

Ernest was totally confused by what had happened and could not grasp what had happened not least his son's involvement. Jed sat quietly with him in the farmhouse until Oscar Blaketon came in.

"How's Constable Rowan doing?" Jed asked the Sergeant.

"Well, we've got him off to the hospital. His injuries aren't all your lad's doing Ernest, so don't take on. Your lad did hit my constable but PC Rowan hit his head on a wooden post as he fell and that's what's done most of the damage."

"Aye but it were our Billy hitting him what caused him to fall." Ernest shook his head. "I thought my lad were in London Sergeant. Not up here, not causing this bother. Trying to destroy my farm what I were keeping for him Sergeant."

"I know Ernest. I know. Look, I need to go and tell Dr Rowan that her husband is in hospital and CID will be interviewing Billy. And we'll let you know what's happening. But in the meantime Ernest you need someone with you."

"I'll stay." Jed spoke firmly. "My stockman can manage without me quite well and I'm sure Bert Cooper," he grimaced, "can manage yours Ernie. We'll keep each other company until we know more eh?"

"That's good of you Mr Armstrong. That all right with you Ernie?"

"Aye, I reckon so." The old man turned back to the fire.

Jed followed Oscar Blaketon to the door to see him out.

"I'm grateful," the Sergeant said to him. "You've been a big help tonight sir."

"Not at all." Jed looked back at Ernest. "But this is going to be the finish of Ernest. He's been betrayed by his own flesh and blood."

Looking over at the old man sitting hunched by the fire, Oscar felt deep down Jed was right. It looked like he might get Ernest's land after all. He sighed. What could have been Billy's motive for all this?


	5. Chapter 5

Nick's x-rays showed no skull fracture but he was severely concussed. The hospital would not contemplate releasing him and to his disgust he was admitted. To make it worse despite a throbbing headache and four stitches in the gash to his head, he was not even allowed to sleep. When he did doze off he was woken by someone every thirty minutes asking did he know where he was, what day it was, what was his name? It was driving him to distraction.

Kate had been speaking to his doctor; now she quietly sat by his bed. He opened his eyes and glared at her. "How are you feeling?" she asked him gently. "I'm going to go in a minute, let you get some rest."

"I can't get any rest," he said moodily, "keep being woken up every five minutes."

"I know but its just to make sure you're all right love. We have to be careful, that's a real knock you've given yourself."

"When can I go home?"

"In a day or two." Kate was patient but firm. "Here is the best place for you now."

"I feel sick…."

Kate reached for a bowl. It was going to be a long night.

The following morning in the duty room at Ashfordly Oscar Blaketon sat drinking a cup of tea with Bellamy and Ventress. They looked exhausted. Then the main station door opened and a plain clothes officer came in.

"All right lads, no need for formalities," said DI Roper as they made to scramble to their feet. "Any of that tea going?"

Alf poured him one. "Thanks," he said. "Well first things, first, how's young PC Rowan doing?"

"Concussion. He'll be in hospital a couple of days but he should be all right although not in the best of humour I gather," Blaketon said with a wry grin.

"Well, we've interviewed Billy Cook over at Scarborough and charged him with the assault on PC Rowan." Roper sipped his tea. "It's a bit of a story, all told. Billy hasn't been getting on too well in London, not holding down jobs, the usual. And he figured with money behind him he might try for a new life entirely – Australia. Now, he says he wrote to the old man asking him for help, financial help, but the old man said he didn't have it to give him. Probably true, like most of these farmers the old man is asset rich but cash poor. The money's locked in the land."

"So – Billy thought if he could put pressure on him he might induce him to sell?" Blaketon asked seeing it all now.

"Aye."

"But – letting out stock is one thing but firing his Dad's barn – and going back to do the same thing again?" Phil was shocked. "It could have killed old Ernest, the stress of it all."

"I don't think our Billy is too bright," Roper said drily. "I'm not sure he entirely thought it through."

"I knew young Billy as a kid," Alf said thoughtfully. "He were a nice young lad. Used to get up early and help his Dad with the milking and that. I reckon things changed when his Mam died." He sighed. "Ernest thought the world of his Billy. This'll finish him, it will."

"That's why I'm here, really. I need to go and speak to him but I wondered Sergeant, if you would come with me?" Roper asked. "He's going to need careful handling and it would be best if someone he knows is with me."

Blaketon nodded. "Aye, we'll take my car."

Phil went down to the hospital to see Nick shortly afterward to update him. He was in slightly better humour and had at least stopped being sick. Kate told Phil not to worry if he seemed irritable. "It's the concussion," she explained, "and he didn't get much sleep last night."

"That's fine Kate," he said. "I won't stay long any road, I know he needs ter rest."

Nick seemed pleased to see Phil though and was keen to hear what was going on. Swiftly Phil brought him up to speed with events.

"So all this – was because Billy wanted his hands on his Dad's money?" Nick shook his head slowly. "He deserves what's coming to him."

"Aye. Tell you what Jed Armstrong turned out to be the hero of the hour in it all, with his citizen's arrest! And he stayed with Ernest all last night by all accounts."

"Bert Cooper will have to eat his words on that score then!" Nick said, with a small smile.

"How are you doing anyway?" Phil asked him with some sympathy – Nick did look a bit rough.

"I'm all right. Just want to go home really."

"Well, when you're up to it, all right, not before. And don't worry, young Billy is bang to rights for what he did to you and before the day is out he'll be bang to rights for what he's done to his old man and all."

But Ernest Cook had other ideas.

"I don't want my lad charged for what he's done at the farm," he was telling Roper as he and Blaketon sat with Ernest in the farmhouse.

"Ernest." Blaketon leaned forwards. "He's fired your barn, tried to fire your shed, assaulted a police officer."

"I tried with him Sergeant." Ernest looked dully at him. "I tried to bring him up a good lad and so did his Mam, God rest her soul."

"We know that," Roper said soothingly. "This is no reflection on you Mr Cook. Billy has - well, he's turned down a different path to the one you've always shown him as right. But he does – if it helps – seem genuinely sorry for what he's done. However he has to pay for his crimes. You must see that."

"He will go to prison?" Ernie wanted to know.

"Yes, I'm afraid so, Ernie, and it might be for some time," Blaketon replied not wanting to delude him.

"It doesn't matter," Ernie said sadly. "He'll get his money when he comes out."

The two police officers looked at each other. "I don't understand Ernie?" Blaketon asked.

"I'm selling up Mr Blaketon. I've no stomach for it now. I haven't said owt ter him but I fancy young Jed would want to take it on. I'll put the money away and its Billy's when I've gone and he's free and he can use that to make a fresh start for himself. I doubt I'll still be here when he comes out."

"Ernest –" Oscar felt genuinely distressed by the old man's decision yet he respected it for he knew that the old man was finding the betrayal harder to cope with than anything else. It was understandable.


	6. Chapter 6

It really was one of those cases where everyone lost and no one gained. Ernest would sell the farm he'd worked all his life and had to accept his son never wanted to work the land as he had done and his father before him. No money in the bank would compensate Ernie for this or the bitterness of his son's betrayal.

Billy Cook had frightened himself quite badly that night having been convinced he'd killed Nick Rowan and the way things had spiralled out of control had brought him to his senses somewhat but far too late. He knew he was looking at a long stretch before he saw the outside of prison walls again.

There was a knock on effect too for Bert Cooper who lived in a cottage on the farm. If the farm was sold Bert would lose his home. No winners all round.

Jed Armstrong thought he could help though. If Ernie would listen to him.

Four days later he went to see Ernie who had been keeping to the house. Jed knocked and went in.

"I'll go if you'd like me to," he said to Ernie, "but I'd like you to hear what I've to say."

"I'll speak first lad." Ernie shrugged. "Never mind buying a bit of land. You can have it all. I'm getting out."

Jed held up his hand. "Wait a moment." He sat down opposite Ernie.

"I know why you want to sell," he said, "but truth is it's a damn shame."

"I've no one to leave it ter," Ernie said bitterly. "What do I do, keep going until I drop in that yard out there one morning?"

"No. You can give up the farm but don't leave your home Ernie or see Bert out of his. That's what'll happen if you sell. You'll both be homeless."

Ernest said nothing.

"Sell me the land Ernest. You keep the farmhouse and Bert's cottage and maybe an acre or two for yourself if you want it."

Ernest looked at him.

"You'll have money in the bank but you'll still have your home. You won't have the worry of a farm to run. If you wanted you could come up to Cross Rigg and work a day or two if you fancied it. Keep your hand in and I'm sure you can teach me a few tricks me only being a nipper! I'll take Bert on too if he likes and if he can get over me being an incomer!" Jed smiled. "This way we both get what we want."

Ernest looked at him with some interest. "You're not a bad lad," he said. "Take no notice of Bert he just likes to let off steam."

"So you're interested Ernest?" Jed was pleased to see the flicker of light in the old man's eyes.

Before he could answer the yard dog barked. Jed went to the window. "Its PC Rowan with his wife," he told Ernest.

Nick had only been out of hospital a day or two but was really worried about old Ernest as was everyone else and he and Kate had decided to take a run out in the car and see him although Kate was driving, Nick not being up to it at the moment.

"I'll leave you to talk," Jed said as he let Kate and Nick in.

"No, you stay, lad," Ernest said suddenly. He looked intently at Nick, noting the bruises and stitches in the gash above his eye. "My lad did that to you Constable. I'm that sorry."

"Its not your fault, Ernest," Nick said gently sitting down opposite him. "The post in your shed did most of the damage anyway!"

"You look a bit better Ernest," Kate said. She had called out briefly to see him a day or two ago and been really worried about him, but he seemed a bit more interested in life today.

"Well, its young Jed here," Ernest said. "He's come up with an idea that's made me think a bit."

"What's that?" Nick asked.

"That I buy Ernest's land but he keeps his farmhouse, and Bert's cottage. Better than both of them being homeless. I've offered Bert work and an odd day at Cross Rigg for Ernie if he wants it. I could do with the benefit of his experience to be honest," Jed said not entirely truthfully for Jed knew what he was about.

Kate drew in a breath, it sounded perfect.

"What about it Ernie," Nick asked the old man. "Tempted?"

"Well I am Mr Rowan. I'd hate to leave this place, so many memories you know. Mostly good ones. And if I sold the land I can use the money to make the old place proper comfortable, like. I held on to the land thinking Billy might come back to the farm one day but, well, he wasn't going to was he?"

"I don't think so Ernest," Nick said gently. "But this, this sounds a perfect solution for you and Bert."

"And I'll pay a fair price for the land Ernest," said Jed. "We'll get it valued, all above board."

Before they left Nick and Kate had a walk down the field sloping away from the farmyard.

"It's a beautiful place," Kate said, "but I suppose in some ways I can understand Billy not wanting it, its hard work running a farm especially in the winter."

"I can understand him not wanting it, but not nearly driving his father to an early grave," Nick replied.

"No, no excuses at all." Kate smiled. "Jed Armstrong's a bit of a revelation isn't he? Did you ever think he was involved at all in what was going on?"

"No although I did see him nearly lose his temper with Bert and I wondered a bit. But that said Bert was probably asking for it, rambling on about incomers and throwing accusations around. How Bert working for Jed will work out I don't know but they can sort that out themselves!"

Kate tucked her arm through his. "Come on," she said, "lets get you home. You've done enough for one day."

Bert Cooper met them in the yard as they got back to the car.

"Turn of events this isn't it?" he said. "Offered a job up at Cross Rigg. Worked here all me life I have!"

"You'll still have your home here Bert," Nick said patiently. "But Ernie's done enough now. Best he lets the land go and has some home comforts for himself."

"Never thought the day'd come, he'd let this place go." Bert snorted. "Especially to a bloody incomer…..!"


End file.
